


Make Him A Member

by ophiuscribe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society (Homestuck), Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Noir, Gen, I came up with this at three in the goddamn morning, Johns dad is a fucking mobster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28477686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophiuscribe/pseuds/ophiuscribe
Summary: Your name is JOHN EGBERT. For as far back as you remember, your father has just been a man trying to make a good honest living for his son. The only abnormal thing about him was his nocturnal sleep schedule, which you chocked up to working the nightshift. One early morning, however, he comes home with blood on his tie and a bullet in his belt.Suddenly, the sharp suits, fancy hats and weird sleep schedule have a different meaning.
Relationships: John Egbert/Rose Lalonde
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Make Him A Member

You decided to wake up a little earlier that morning.

Maybe it was chance, or maybe you were subconsciously craving a break from schedule. You'd wake up around nine o'clock, put your glasses on, brush your teeth and then bound downstairs to see your father seated at the couch. He always looked tired, and sometimes his suit looked a little rumpled, but you reasoned this was because of a long shift at work. The man was working from midnight into the early hours of the morning. Humans weren't made to be nocturnal creatures. It was the only odd thing about your father, really.

But that morning you woke up earlier. And when you went downstairs, your father was home a little earlier than usual too. It seemed like you were both off schedule. And you saw something you weren't meant to see.

He was leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a long drag from his pipe. He wore a pitch black suit, complimented by a white tie. Maybe he was just changing his wardrobe. And then you saw the unmistakable spot of blood right by his tie. And in his right hand, instead of a mug, he held a gun. The cold steel of a pistol resting against the countertop instead of ceramic warmed by a hot beverage.

Your father didn't use guns. That fact would be different in your mind after this morning. A lot of your presumptions about your father would be different after this, actually.

You're dead still as you look at a man you thought you knew.

TT: So your father is wearing something different from the norm. He has blood on his front. And is apparently holding a weapon.   
TT: It's unusual for you, to be sure.   
EB: you think?! 

His eyes were tired. He subtly bit his pipe, running his thumb over the metal of the gun. If your mind were working at the moment, you could almost imagine cool jazz punctuating the scene. Not that anything about this was remotely cool. You're pretty sure this going to traumatize you for a while. He sighs, then looks up. Right at you.

You're both staring at each other now. His face is surprised for a moment, and then you see a kind of despair followed by resignation. He takes the pipe out of his mouth, and sighs. Then he looks back to you, his face full of sympathy.

"Sit down, son. We have some things to talk about."

TT: So what did you talk about?   
EB: i...don't know how to answer that honestly.   
TT: You don't know what you talked about?   
EB: no, i do!   
EB: i'm just still processing a lot of it i guess. i don't even know if i believe it.   
TT: Well, start from the beginning. 

You're seated at the kitchen table, where usually your Dad would have made you something way too sweet for breakfast. Instead, he's seated in front of you, wearing something you've never seen him wear before. He's put the pistol on the chair next to him, under the table. You guess he's trying to make you forget. You cannot. He takes another puff of his pipe, and your eyes go the stain by his tie.

"Dad?" you say into the silence, somehow finding your voice. He looks at you. 

"Did...did you hurt someone?"

He looks down at the stain, taking that part of his shirt with his thumb and finger unconsciously. He shakes his head. 

"I'm sorry, son. I wanted to keep you out of this for as long as I could." The look on his face his pained.

"Keep me out of what? Why-what are you wearing? Since when did you use a gun? What's going *on*?!" The questions come out your mouth one after another, without pause. When you finally run out of steam, shoulders slumped, he takes his pipe out and sets it on the table.

"Did I ever tell you much about your Nanna?" The question is unexpected. You blink at him.

"Nanna? You told me she died from something with a ladder-what does she have to do with this?" 

He pulls out his wallet from his breast pocket. You didn't even notice it, since it blended in with the suit. He opens the leather pouch, taking out a photo. He gives it to you. You open it, and it's a grainy photo of your Nanna. She's standing next to someone else. The figure is dark, wearing a hat a lot like your Dads. Unlike your Nanna, he isn't smiling. Something tingles in the back of your brain, but you can't place anything. 

"The gentleman she's standing next to has kept our family safe for a very long time." He muses, like he knew what you were going to ask. Your faced wrinkles in confusion. 

"Safe? Safe from what?" He sighs. 

"I can't say, son." 

TT: He couldn't even say what it was you were supposed to be afraid of?   
EB: no!   
EB: all i know is there's someone, or multiple someones who want to do me in for some reason.   
EB: i wish i knew, or at least why i'm so important.   
TT: And not knowing scares you more.   
EB: yeah, it kinda does!   


You don't feel fearful at first. Instead, it's confusion mixed with slow realization. The fact that you were homeschooled. Your father never encouraging you to go outside. And when you did, it was with the constant feeling of being watched. You recall one time seeing a glassy eye poking out of the darkness, before disappearing. 

"But why me? I mean, I don't think I've done anything wrong. Why am I so important?!" Your voice raises slightly at that last part, and you can feel anger beginning to bubble. At your Dad, for keeping this from you for seventeen years. At whoever these guys are, for wanting to potentially kill you for a reason you aren't even aware of. You're even a little angry at the man in the photo, and you get that tingle in your mind again-

Your feelings are instantly quelled when he places a hand on your shoulder.

"John." He looks at you in the eye, with a seriousness you've never seen from him before. "You haven't done anything wrong. None of this is your fault. Nor Nanna's. This situation is beyond all of us."

"Why are there people after me?" You manage to get out.

He leans back. That tired look is with him again.

"It's...very complicated, son. But despite what you said earlier, you are important. Very, very important. And I'm not just saying that as a father," He adds quickly, noticing you about to speak up. "I mean in a much grander sense. Much bigger than I can explain."

"But...how?! I mean, I dunno, I'm not sure I'm the kind of person who's universally important or something like that. I'm only good at two things, and I don't think music or pranking have very, uh, universal ramifications? I think. I don't know." 

EB: i don't know what to make of it.   
EB: i just don't think i'm the sort of person who's actions have grand ramifications!   
EB: especially not the someone-wanting-to-assassinate-me kind.   
TT: Hmm.   
TT: Well, you did say that before this morning you had no idea what kind of man your father really was, correct?>   
EB: yeah?   
TT: Well, John.   
TT: It seems you're not quite the person you think you are, either.   
TT: I don't think your average seventeen year old has a hit out for them by mysterious individuals.   
EB: gee, that's comforting.   


"I'm sorry, son." He says again.

You groan, fingers going under you glasses and rubbing your eyes. He looks at you across the table. You wonder who this is harder for.

"When will I know what all of this is about?" You ask.

"Soon, my boy. I'm going to take you to meet someone." 

"You mean, someone who can explain all this?"

"Well, I want you to know him. The man your Nanna met. You'll...have to, anyways."

You look up. "Have to?" 

He looks at you with a look of utter sympathy. It doesn't comfort you. It has the opposite effect.

"When you turned eighteen, I was going to make you a part of all this. Explain it to you, induct you into the crew. It's too early," he adds quietly. 

"Too early for what?"

He shakes his head. 

"You found out a little sooner than you should have. So as per our family's contract with Mr. Slick, well..." He takes his hat off, and his tired eyes wrinkle slightly at the corners.

"You're a part of the Midnight Crew now, son."

**Author's Note:**

> so this is kind of stupid, but it's fun too so i'm gonna roll with it 
> 
> i wanted to a kind of au with the midnight crew, so i thought of a story where the guardians are part of it, and you have the felt, and they're out for our main characters to stop something from screwing up their plans. i wanted to do a scene where john actually finds out something disturbing about his father (like we were lead on with in act 1) and this scene came into being. i hope it at least slightly interests you in the grander scheme of this world, because i've had this on my mind a while and i don't think i'm gonna stop no matter how weird it gets


End file.
